Lets Play a Game
by Like.Wait.WHAT
Summary: "Uncle Dylan are they really gone...?" He nods. "Yeah Max. I'm so sorry." I sob into the night. Tonight I cry, the next day... I fight. Lots of Fax! and lots of Max getting her revenge... take a peek? R&R.
1. Bleed

**Short, short, short summary: Humor, adventure, romance and plenty of Fax, what more could I say? **

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**Hope you guys enjoy! **

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Prologue - Bleed:

The screech of my lose floor board woke me up in the dead of night.

It sounded like a gun shot piecing the night air rudely waking me up. Sleepy and sluggishly my gaze steadily swept around my room, looking for the origin of the noise. One thing was clear, someone was walking around in my room.

The lace egg yellow curtains were blowing, swaying in the spring breeze from my slightly open window. A diminutive about of the moon was spilling into my room casting eerie shadows to sulk and lurk along my royal blue walls, composing a spooky dance amongst them. Color pictures I drew and colored in looked forbidding in the dark instead of the pretty colored cartoons and princess they are during the daylight. What my eyes landed on next had me gasping for air. A human like shadow was standing in the far corner, unmoving now, still as a stone.

A bundle of nerves settle deep in my belly like rocks as I sat up.

"Uh... who's there?" I ask, fear in my voice.

The spooky-like shadow shift in the corner, and I suck in a big breath almost expecting some deranged zombie to jump out at any moment and eat me whole.

"Who..." I stop. It felt like my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth. I was just deadly still in fear now.

"Kiddo, relax it's just me."

Confusing replaced the fear. "Mom?"

The dark shadow transformed into the shape of my mom. I let out a breath. It _was _my mom.

"Hey sweetie." She mumbled low and gentle. The glow of the moon bath her in vividness light, promenading her beautiful features.

"Mom, what time is it?"

She smiles and kneel next to me. "Late."

Suddenly the fear was back. It sat in my stomach making me feel sick. Something was off.

Her eyes, similar to mine, held pain, sadness and defeat.

"Max we have to leave." She said gingerly.

What did she mean we have to leave? I don't understand.

"W-what do you mean?" I ask confused. "We have to leave?"

"I'd messed up. No. _W__e _had messed up." She utter more to herself then to me. My mom looked up then, shocking me. Her eyes were filled with so much remorse and I don't understand why. I hate that.

"I just never knew it would come to this." She was speaking in code again.

"Mom, what are you talking about? I don't understand!" I cry out. "And why do we have to leave?"

I was shaking now. Fear surged throughout my shaking body as she remain deathly silent. The hush, harsh, silence surrounding us suffocated me. I need her to tell me everything was okay. I yearn for my mother to console me.

However, the only thing she said was: "Baby, there's no time. We need to leave right now."

Unexpectedly she scoped me up in her arms, placing me on her right hip bone. I was seven and could walk on my own, but something told me, her picking me up was more for her comfort then mine. While shushing me she snatched up my blue blanket to cuddle me with.

"Mom?" I ask sleepy.

"Ssshh." She said softly, gently pushing my head down on her shoulder.

Despite the fear I still feel, I felt safe in my moms arms.

As she walks out of my room, I shut my eyes and clutch her soft shirt. The soft thump of her heartbeat was a soft, gently melody, lessening the fear even more, settling me down. Between real world and dream world, the feeling of a light watery splash hit my hot forehead, coasting downward, veering down my nose. Salt fills my dry mouth when it reaches my mouth.

I knew what it was.

Tears.

And I couldn't believe it.

My mom was strong, tough, hot headed, and was never one to show any weakness, _ever_. And now she was crying. They were slow, and quiet, hitting my forehead.

.

.

.

_Bang! _

A deafening bang echoed from somewhere deep in the house startle me completely awake. I looked up at my mom. "What was that?" I questioned.

She shook her head, chock out a small sob and ran one shaky hand through my tangled bedhead. "It's going to be okay." She reassured me.

It didn't go unnoticed by me that she ignored my question of what that was. It didn't matter because I knew whatever it was, wasn't good. And things were _not_ okay. I'm seven, not stupid. Far from it. I was smarter then your average seven year old.

I've noticed for the past few weeks now my parents have been more guarded and alert around me. Two weeks ago there was a phone call that caused that behavior. Whoever it was only had bad news. There's always been this secret that they're keeping from me, I was positive of it. Even more so now.

Suddenly, my mom stops. Her back went stiff as a plank, and her arms tighten around me. There was a clutter of noise coming from around the corner, our kitchen. From my moms stiff stance, it was _very _unwelcome.

"Is it dad?" I ask quietly.

"No baby."

My mom tiptoes and gracefully like a talent ballerina glides to the side, pressing her back flat against our hall wall.

And then we hear voices:

"Do you see her?" A male asks. I don't recognize the voice either.

"No." Another replies, voice hard and sand-papery.

Foot steps.

Whispering.

What's going on?

"What about the child?"

Any warmth in the dreary house was sucked dry as he laughs. "No. Don't worry about the kid yet. She'll be dealt with later. Right now our only job is the mother and father. The fathers already been taking care of."

They both laugh wickedly. Tiny bumps erupt along my pale flesh as I clung to my mother tighter. It feels like a steal claw was taking a hold of my heart and smashing half of it, the half that held my father. Something happened to my dad. But what? Fingers held on to me tight and fist the fabric of my pajama top. My mom bury her head into my hair. Her wet tears seep into my hair, her small frame lightly shake with tears and light sobs.

The two men moved farther away. My mom dashed to our nearest door which was a closet, opening it quietly. We both cringe at the slight noise as the door rubs against the hall carpet floor. Old and new jackets hung from one single steel bar. Above hung a light blub, a knotted chain dangling.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Max." She breathed, lowering me to the floor. "Lets play a game, okay?"

"What kinda game?" I ask, the seven year old me suddenly appearing.

"Yes a game. A fun game. Almost like hide and seek. You have to stay right here and whatever you do, do not make a single noise. Please don't come out until mommy comes for you. The object of this game is for no one to find you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl." She murmured.

My mom hugs me tightly before drawing back. "I love you."

"I love you too." I whisper.

I didn't want to let go.

I_ couldn't l_et go.

Would she come back for me? I was scared the moment my fingers lost the small contact that I held, I would lose her forever.

My mom looks at me, sadness shadows her eyes. "I'm so sorry. Please never forget I love you."

And then she was gone, closing the door gently behind her.

My eyes fill with salty tears, vision blur as my tears run down my cheeks. My mom said she would come back for me, but I why do I feel like she won't be coming back? Her eyes had held so much stories left untold and pain. There had been anguish and just pure fear.

I roll up in a ball trying to appear smaller, wrapping my arms around my kneel up legs. I took some comfort in the smell drifting from the jackets hanging above me. It was the sweet smell of cherries and strawberries with a hint of mint, combined both my mom and dad.

.

.

.

It felt like hours of waiting. There was a scream and a shout shortly ago before silence. Motionless and scared I listened for any other noise. The house was as still and quiet as me now. Where was my mom? My dad? I shut my eyes, sobbing. Please, please I want to be any where but here. Flashes of my mom reading me a bed time story, filled my head. My dad giving me a piggyback ride around our backyard in a scatter of orange, and red leaves. Mom baking my favorite snack; chocolate cookies. I laugh through my noise. My dad would always steal some dough behind my moms back, _always, _claiming it was better uncooked. He'd blob some on my nose and ask, "Right kiddo?" of course I'll always agree because dads were always right. God, let them be okay!

Abruptly the door opens. I shot up, snot face, prepare to fight if I had to.

"Mom?"

"No Max. It's Uncle Dylan."

"Uncle... Dylan?"

He stood before me with a deadly pale face. He looked drained... empty. My uncle was my moms brother.

"Uncle Dylan... are they... " I couldn't even finish _that _thought.

However, he knew what I was about to ask. He nods. "I'm so sorry."

They were truly gone. Forever.

I collapse to my legs, breathing becoming harder and harder with every sob.

"Oh Max I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was late. I-I didn't get here in time." he sobbed with me, cradling me to his chest. I held on for dear life. I held on and wouldn't let go.

The game was nearly over. In fact it was just the start.

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**Very sad I know:(  
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	2. Hit the Floor

**Author note: Hi! I started this story a long time ago. I went back to it, and had all these ideas, so I'm starting this one up again, but changed a whole lot in the first chapter, so if you've started to read this already, go back and read the first chapter! I also deleted this one and redid it and took the third one out and redid it... I just wanted to do all of this again. I hope you like it! And review! More to come soon. **

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**1: Hit the Floor: **

10 years later:

.

.

.

"_Let's play a game…?"_

Every night, tonight being no different, those words hunt me. Of my mother's voice. A whisper that kisses my ear _every single night. _Sometimes, I unfold my heart and listen. Others, like tonight, I lock up my heart and wake up crying.

With a shaky hand I raise it to my face, wiping off the tears very unsettled. I've never been one for crying. In my own bed though, it happens –with the aid of my mother's ghostly voice. I choke out a strangle laugh, and swipe my alarm clock off my nightstand, checking the time with adjusted eyes: 2:00. Later than usual. _That's just great. _

My whole world had crumbled that night ten years ago. I had the picture perfect childhood: love from two parents. Afterward, my heart and childhood died with them. And the guilt eats me from within. The fact is, could I have done something differently to safe them? I was seven, but I had legs, arms and a mouth. I could have done something, right?

Those thoughts never end.

My thoughts were impede however, when my uncle hurdles through my room, his body hitting the ground. "Max, we need to pack!"

"What?" my body became alert with readiness.

"There're coming." Is all he says. It was all he _had_ to say.

Still on the floor he wiggles beneath my bed swapping the blue bag I knew that was under there.

"How long?" I ask my voice cold, and, damn angry. Couldn't my uncle and I just live in peace?

"Five minutes. Maybe ten. We have to hurry." He answers while throwing piles of my clothes into the quickly filling bag.

"Shit. Look, I can finish here. Go pack and I'll meet you by the door in a few." I direct, briskly walking to my drawer

He nods. "Fine. Quick and no recklessness, got it?"

I roll my eyes. "Gotcha. Now hurry!"

First thing, first, ditch the slippers. I do so, slipping on a pair of sneakers and returning to the open drawer. The very top housed several types of weapons –weapons that were going to save my ass tonight that is. I curled my hand around the handgun, sticking it in the back of my underwear and concealed it with my pajama top. Next, I withdrew a folding knife. The shell of the handle was frayed and slightly yellow, but worked like a charm. I stuck that one in my shoe.

"Okay Max, let's do this." I spoke softly to myself, the feeling of wanting to kick some butt arousing within me. Was it sick to feel that way? I didn't think so. I just lust after revenge. To me, the more bad guys I knock around, the more it feels like I was avenging their deaths. It was the only thing I could do.

I zipped my bag, slinging it over my shoulder, and venture out into the dark hall.

This house was _old_ so every step and door open was like cat nails sliding down a chalkboard. I ascended the stairs; wincing with each step my foot falls on.

_Shesh, next time we're bubble wrapping the damn place. _

Stopping on the bottom step, I strain my ears to catch something out of sorts. I had to remember my uncle was around somewhere too.

It wasn't that much longer that I caught the noise of others gating around, and soft voices. I slid my bag onto the ground, and took that last step. The darkness was like a blanket, cloaking almost everything to the fact that I couldn't see anything but outlines of objects, which totally sucked.

I kneel, my hand encountering the flat wall and waited.

The shadow of a black boot emerged from the living room moments later. Attached to that boot was a thickset leg clad in dark jeans. My uncle had chicken legs. His sinew of strength and power came from his arms and the talent he had with weapons, not his legs. Crap. All it could mean was… my eyes coast upwards, and I suck in a tiny breath. It wasn't my uncle, but more like a scary dude. Like always his face was handsome –he should be on a boxer package handsome– His face was dark and full of danger, half hiding in the dark. Cole black eyes, vile and alert, took in the surroundings with a gaze of a monster. And all I could think was; _please don't look down, just please! _

Luckily, just because he had the legs of a football player, a body of a lumberjack and a handsome face didn't mean he was smart. He looked left. He looked right. He _didn't_ look down. Ha, sucker. With a swift move of practice ease, I kick, _hard._

I smirk as his leg convulse slightly. The next kick I deliver knocks him off his feet completely. He grunts out in either pain, surprise or both as he hits the floor.

My face hover over his, while I ask: "Now, would it be little ole' me that you had been looking for?"

His bottomless eyes widen. "You little bitc-"

Yeah, not going there. I cut off the offensive name with a punch straight to the face, knocking him out cold. Take that jerk.

"Goodnight sweetheart." I said softly, pushing myself up.

I snag my bag, ready to find my uncle and get the _hell_ outta here.

My uncle's bedroom was on the other side of the living room, so that's where I went. The living room. And it was the wrong decision.

Behind me a male spoke. "Well, here we are."

I spin around outraged. Can't get a break can I?

Another handsome man with an identical face like the one in the hall stood before me. His lips turn upwards into a sinful smile, deforming his face even _handsomer_. It was all a gimmick though. That face was a mask of what he truly was. And I watch as that mask melts like wax. The transformation always makes my skin crawl, no matter how many times I'd witnessed it. Skin expands over bones altering into a beasts face. Points, for teeth jet out of his large mouth glistering with saliva. And as if it wasn't gross enough, brown fur emits from his flesh all over, clothes shedding and splitting with it.

And once done, he said, "Awe, don't be afraid. I don't bite…much." His voice sounded like he had marbles in his mouth. But no, it was just razor sharp teeth.

Shit.

"I'm not afraid of you idiot. Just appall by your smell."

He growls and run towards me. I dance out of reach. He twists around, furry face annoyed. At his next try, I easily duck the flying clawed fist.

"Seriously? Is that _all _you got?" I taunt.

Okay, so it wasn't really the smartest thing to egg on a wolf man or whatever the hell it is, but its fun, so I do.

In rage, he came at me again. I dodge it, but got nipped in the side.

"Ouch! You idiot!" I yell.

I was done playing with the dog. I yank out my gun. "You're gonna pay for that."

He ran for me again. I jab my elbow in his gut, and cuffed him with the barrel of the gun. I try not to shoot them as much as I can. Sure, they weren't human, but before they change they looked human and that was enough for me to use the gun as a last resort. My uncle was another story.

I hit him again. His flying paw hits the side of my face, the side of my face flared up in hot pain. Damnit! Pissed, I slam the butt of the gun down. With that third blow he slumps to the ground, blood matted with his fur.

"Max?"

I jump, swinging my gun towards the voice.

"Hey, it's just me."

This time it _was_ my uncle.

I drop my arm, "Oh, hey. Good morning."

He grins, "Good morning to you too. I'm guessing the other one is your doing too?"

I fought off a smirk. Now really wasn't the time, "Of course. Do you think these two are the only ones or are there others?"

Uncle Dylan ran a hand through his floppy blond hair. "Not sure. I've been too busy looking for you to peg down a number."

Dogman groans. I roll my eyes and look down. His eyelids started to flutter open, and he snaps his mouth.

"I don't understand why they don't just stay down." I say amused.

"What do you expect, tough as shit, stupid as an infant, yeah?"

I laugh, "Right."

I reach down and smash his head, again knocking him out. Hopefully he won't wake from his slumber until we're long gone.

And then I hear thunder.

No, not really.

But it was a thunder of footfalls. I looked at my uncle. "Ready?"

He nods, "Looks like this morning is far from over."

I couldn't agree more.

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	3. Powerless

**2: **Powerless:

It was _early _and here I was in my pajamas kicking wolfy butt. For real though, this has been a part of my life since my parents were torn away from me at the tender age of seven. I wasn't stupid, I knew my mother and father must have been in some deep shit, or knew something that'd cost their lives. Did I know what or why? Not a clue. Though, whoever had put that target on their heads had a likewise target on Uncle Dylan's and mine also. How nice of them, yeah?

And I wanted to know who the mastermind was so _badly_, but my uncle swore he has no idea who they are. Over the years he's taught me how to fight, use a weapon, lock pick, and how to hotwire a car _blindfolded_. He also knew these _dogs_ were named, **"**Erasers," but he has no clue who the people were that killed his own sister and brother in law? My uncle was the only family I have but I didn't believe him, but instead of acting like a brat and demand answers, I'd faithfully followed him. Looking at the four other Erasers that now blocked our escape, I think it's time to pursuit those answers and find out what the hell was going on. And I wasn't taken any more bullshit that he was feeding me.

"Uncle Dylan you ready for this?" I ask smoothly then.

"Born ready kiddo," He replied cheeky.

The small army of four Erasers was staged in a shape of a square. There was two in the front and two on each side behind. Of course each one had the looks of a dark, handsome model. I swear I haven't seen one ugly one yet when they were in their human bodies. Nightmares became reality though when they took on their _real_ shape.

Then one of them spoke: "Maximum Ride. It's so good to finally be able to see you in person." He purrs roughly, spurring on a shiver that felt like he dragged the tip of his claw down my spine.

"Too bad I can't say the same to you." I grit out.

Him and the other three laugh, which frankly just piss me off even more.

"Ah, they said you were a spitfire. I suppose they were right."

That gave me pause. "Who are they?"

His pillowed lips pulled up at the corner. And the look he gave me could only describe the look you'd get when you caught a mouse buy its tail. "Max I have all the answers that you seek."

I was getting frustrated with the vague codes already. I just wanted straight answers. "Answer me._" _

"Now isn't the time, Max. " Uncle Dylan whispered at the same time the Eraser answered, "The ones that wanted your parents dead."

It felt like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped on me, soaking me to the core. "Who?"

"Max! You honestly think he'll tell you? He's baiting you. God Max use that head of yours for once!"

The Erasers amber eyes lit up with triumph. "I can tell you who, why, and all you want to know. And all you have to do is come with us without a struggle. Come on Max. Don't you wanna know?"

I _really_ did. It wasn't just a want but a need. I sure as hell aren't getting anything out of my uncle. So, as if out of body I move slightly closer to him.

"That's right Max." He purrs.

"Max! It's all lies!"

I stop at my uncle's voice. _Wait, _what_ the hell am I doing?_

The Eraser glares. "Someone shut him up!" He yells.

"Wait!" I yell, rising my gun, before anyone can move. I lick my dry lips. "I'm not going anywhere with you, but I will blow out your brains if you don't start talking." The click of the gun was loud to my ears, as I cock it back, my finger putting light pressure on the trigger.

He barks out a laugh. "Oh Max, don't you see we're not playing by your rules. And I'm done playing games with you. We could have done this the easy way, but looks like you opt for the hard way. By all means more fun for us, right?"

I raise my chin. "Who are you working for?" I ask coldly.

Instead of answering me, he pulls out a gun. They _all _do. And all I can think is _oh shit. _Four guns pointed at us, one pointed at them. I really didn't like those odds.

"Yeah… we're so screwed." Uncle Dylan mutters.

I roll my eyes and ignore him. Even though I agree.

"Why don't you put the gun down," He said smoothly.

I didn't move.

"Max. Put the gun down." He said with more force. "As long as I don't kill you, I can put how many holes through your flesh as I so please, so _use your head for once_ and put it down."

I slide a glance towards my uncle. At his nod I slowly place the gun on the ground.

"Kick it over." He commands.

I glare. "Like I'm gonna pick it back up with four guns trained on us."

His eyes flare bright amber looking like a bonfire. Angry he spat. "Kick it over."

This time I do, lightly kicking it over, watching hopeless as it glides over towards them.

"Okay your turn." I attempt.

He snorts. "Nice try. Now get over here."

I shake my head, "No way. I put my gun down, _and_ kicked it over to you. It's totally your turn to do some of the work."

He chuckles. "I think I like you."

I glare. "Well, I know I hate you."

He lowers his gun, and narrows his eyes. "Max, are you _really_ refusing to come to me when I can easily shoot a hole through your leg? It won't kill you." When he raises the gun, he turns it on my uncle. "But you know I'm sure your uncle can be taken dead or alive. It's you they really want."

I stiffen at the careless why he talks about my uncles life. I could not let this idiot kill the only family I have. I know, without a doubt, I would jump in front of the bullet to save my uncles life.

"Max. Your uncle's life is ticking away."

I pull at my hair. "Shut up for a second. And _stop_ saying my name!"

He smirks, gun still pointed at my uncle. "Max come here."

I really, _really_ hated him.

I look at my uncle again and we both nod. We'll figure something out. In the mean time I have to do this. I take a step toward him. A few moments later I was before him. I yelp as he grabs my arm in a vase like grip, blunt nails needles in my skin. He spun my around, my back pressed against his chest now.

I felt the tip of the gun pressed against my lower stomach.

"I'm Ari by the way. And we Max, are going to have loads of fun."

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**Hi! I would love if you would review and tell me what you all think. I'm always super happy to know if you guys like it, love it, or... don't like it (hope that's not the case though), haha. And yeah, ****Ari has a huge part in this story, so yeah... good guy, bad guy, you'll find out later.**

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	4. In Pieces

**3: In Pieces:**

"Alright, grab the uncle." He told the others while steering me toward the door harshly. We push ahead in this sort of weird dance, since I was still pressed against the hard plait of his chest like I was his second skin. We couldn't get to that door, that's all I knew. Before that I had to think of something. So, what do you do when you have a psychopath pointing a gun to your lower abdominal?

Shit, we're so screwed…

… then yet, maybe not.

The arm that was wrap around me secures tighter around my neck. It gave me this idea... it was sorta childish but might be the only way. I lick my dry lips, parting my mouth. I'm seriously glade that he didn't alter into wolf dude like the others had because this was going to suck as it is. I grimace slightly before sinking my teeth into his flesh.

"Ouch!" He yells, wiggling his arm.

I didn't let go; only chomped harder and harder like I was chomping on the tough skin of an apple, until I was sure I would reach bone soon. And it was so gross. My mouth was assaulted with favors that shouldn't be in my mouth. Sweat. Something akin to acid and chemicals...

"Let me go!" He yells, wiggling more.

Not a chance buddy, not until…

Aha! That hand that wield the gun lowered. Before his backup could discern what was going on I already had _Ari _on his back, a confused expression on his face. I kicked the gun away that'd fell when I yanked him over my shoulder to the floor. Satisfaction swelled within me as I stare down at him, fire dancing in my gut. That felt _so _damn good. "Don't _ever _touch me again, got it? And your _fun_ has been put to a harsh stop. So sorry."

After that, everything went stir crazy.

"Max!"

My uncle tossed me a gun. I easily caught it, and swing around at the oncoming Eraser, cuffing him in the face with the metal butt of the gun the next second. Of course it only angered him more than anything else, even with the blood leaking out of his nose. Go figure. In a blink of an eye the punch to my gut made me gasp painfully. Now_, I_ was angry. The beautiful ending was him hitting the floor out cold from my kick ass hook kick. Like I said I can't stomach shooting them. Roughing them up? Yeah, I could do that.

Bullets were mindlessly let lose then. I evaded them by dropping to the floor, throwing my arms over my head. Stupid dogs. What are a few crazy bullets? A few hits the ceiling, plaster, like snow, peppering around us. Glass explodes like a volcano when our glass table was hit. Couch, television, windows, all hit. This was getting ridiculous. Fear for my uncle had me lifting my head. I peer through the falling plaster, getting an eyeful. I had to know if my uncle was okay.

He was. _For now._

He had the second Eraser out cold at his feet, but behind him was the third one, unknown to him that is.

_Shit._

Without thinking I jump for my falling gun. Aim. Shoot.

Perfect.

Like a Gusher, blood flows out of his mouth, eyes rolling back. He slumps to the ground.

My uncle looks down at the two dead Eraser at his feet. He nudge the one I killed with his toe. "Well, that coulda ended badly, yeah?"

Shakily, I get up. "You think?"

He smiles sadly. "Sorry. I know you hate shooting them. Thanks though."

I blew out a breath, nudging him with my toe. "I'll always have your back. If shooting them saves you, then so be it." I tell him, regarding the room, reviewing the sight. I sickly pause a moment later though. "One, two, and three…" I look at my uncle. "There were four."

"The lead." He responds at once after a quick glance around.

"Ari." I say agreeing. "The idiot ran, and left the others. What a damn coward."

"He could still be… wait, what's that smell?"

I picked up the odd scent at once. It smelled a lot like burnt rubber.

"Oh my god." I breathe, my stomach sinking.

This morning is turning out to be one of the worst ones ever.

I run toward the hall, and stop. Flames licked up the hallways tacky fruit wallpaper, melting it into strips of waxy paper. The heat stroked my face in a teasing caress – nothing but a light kiss. The quickly evolving fire blocked our only way out, and was swiftly advancing. This was not good at all.

"Max, we have to get outta here fast, it's spreading!" My uncle yelled, pulling at my arm.

I stumble back. He was right. The powerful flames were feeding off each other, the flames erupting bigger, brighter, and hotter. I backed up and ran back into the living room with my uncle hot on my heels.

"Grab the bags." I order him.

"Max, what are you going to do?" was his response.

"The bags Uncle Dylan!" I shout.

There was no scenes in telling him. He'll just say, _hell no_, to what I was about to do. Besides we had no time. I grip the gun, reaching the window. Using the butt of it, I ram it, and my arm through the glass. Oh yeah, it was like ripping off a bandage in one go. No thinking, just do. Later I will worry about the painful scratches the window joyfully carved into my skin. The good thing was once I picked at the teeth of the now broken window, we had a way to get out of the fire.

"This is what I mean by reckless," my uncle groans.

Ignoring him, I move out of the way and took the bags. "Go first."

"_What? _Are you crazy? I'm the adult, so _you _go first." He argues.

"Go!" I yell. Before he could add anything I cut in, "Stop fighting with me, we don't have the time, so just go through the _damn window!" _

I'd thought his stupid stubbornness would root him to the spot. However, he just gave me an annoyed look, but actually lifts his leg and throws it out the window, carful of the glass. He did the same with the other leg, and soon was out of the house. I didn't waste any time by pushing his and my bags out of the window. I fling my leg outside, just as I was doing so I felt the tiniest bit of heat on my other leg. I moved quickly, jumping out of the house and land heavily on the ground. My uncle hurriedly helps me up.

I feel like it was about to get worse.

Did it?

Yup.

We manage to grab the bags, and run no more than a foot before: _**BOOM!**_

My uncle's clammy hand was thrust out of mine as we both tremble to the ground from the explosion behind us. I'm not sure what Ari did, but he'd intended to blow the damn place up.

I groan as I roll onto my back and looked up at the black sky. A billow of blackish – gray clouds, like steam from a train, was a veil in the dark sky. Smoke thick in the air.

"Max." My uncle coughed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I mutter standing, stabs of pain hitting me hard. I just hurt _everywhere._ "What just happened?"

"The house is gone," He replayed flatly. "And when I see the idiot I'm gonna pummel him to the ground for it."

"Not if I get to him first." I say seriously staring at the mess that was once a house. The house didn't hold any memories. We only lived there for like a year and a half. The only thing that sucked was that now we're homeless.

"What now?" I ask.

My uncles lips turn into a half smile, gaze still on the house. He said. "A friend of mine."

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	5. One Step Closer

**4: One Step Closer: **

"Are you sure, like _really _sure you're alright?"

I puff out my cheeks, holding my tongue. Instead of lashing out at my uncle, because, after all he was just concern for my welfare, I glare and my voice was pure honey as I say, "I'm fine _sweetheart._"

"Are you just saying that so I won't freak out or are you truly okay? Considering that you _did_ smash your arm through a window, which was completely the stupidest thing you've ever done by the way. And now since we're on this topic... why would you be that stupid and _smash your arm through a window!?_"

His voice rose to the skies. Oh yes, he was angry.

"Oh come on Uncle Dylan that's so unfair! The house was on _fire_. I saved our asses and you know it. Can't you just be appreciative and say thank you that my quick thinking had saved us?"

The look on his face was clearly a "no." I sign and tighten the craggy piece of blue fabric that I had wrapped around my arm to stop the bleeding.

Rebellious was my nature, so I don't regret my quick and, okay, sorta risky plan that I'd followed through with. It was nice though to have my uncle's concern. At least I know he cares for me – loves me. But I'm not some china doll. Thrusting my arm through glass wasn't going to shatter me.

"Okay look, I'm sorry that I'd upset you. But back there in the house, all that was going through my mind was, how can I get us out of this house unharmed, and breaking a window with my arm was way more appealing than burning to death. I'm sure you can agree."

He coasts me a long look. "Agree or not, it was stupid. Just next time please try to refine from smashing any part of your body through a window."

"Can't make any promises." I grumble, sloughing in my seat.

Oh yes, we stole a car – hot-wired one and drove away into daybreak. Taking our car would be stupid so we stole our neighbor's car. Not from one of the nicer ones, but the one that would let his dog pee and poop all over our yard and then leave it like the mean old man he is. I don't feel bad about stealing his car that's for sure.

"Max, what am I going to do with you?" he mutters, shaking his head.

I smirk and with cheek said, "I know you'd be very unhappy if you didn't have me in your life so that's a loaded question dear uncle of mine."

He laughs. "Very true," he then looks at my bundled arm. "How's that holding up?"

I look down at it. Not having a bandage on hand I had to rip my old blue shirt, using that as makeshift bandage until I can get my hands on a legit one. "It's holding up I suppose."

I was lucky the cut wasn't that bad. At first I thought the worst. The ugly scratch and unyielding, caked in blood made up an ugly sight. But after cleaning it off with one of the many overheated water bottles in the car and picking away the glass, a thin scratch was the outcome of using my arm as an axe to free us. However, the side of my face bore three slanted scratches… now _those _hurt.

"Hey, we really need to talk about what happened back there." I broached the subject very lightly, even though inside I was dying to talk about this.

He coughed, and switched lanes before asking just as lightly. "Do we?"

Screw lightly. I exploded. "Of course we do! Like that I was _this _close to actually giving myself up for some answers that those _dogs _apparently had."

"They don't know shit." My uncle spat out.

"They've had to know something. And I think you know a lot too even though you tell me otherwise. Uncle, I'm not a native child. I seriously doubt you'll be blindly running away from something you're clueless about. If you don't know a lot, you at least know _something._"

"Now isn't the time to discuss this, but–"here he seems to pick his words carefully, "there are some bad people who want you Max."

"The ones who wanted my parents dead," I said.

"Yes." He said simply.

"And they're after me for something my parents have done." I lean my head against the icy window, fogging it with my voice. "That's just great."

With his free hand he reached over and pat my knee. "I'm sorry. I'm trying, really I am."

"What do they want with me?" I ask next.

"I... I don't know. I only know fragments of what my sister and your father got themselves into. But I think you're the _key_ to whatever it was."

I sat up. "What makes you think that?"

"Black bag, left pocket. There's a gray envelope."

I looked at my uncle, unease settling in. For someone who wanted some answers my butt's sure cemented to my seat.

"Well?"

I signed and with dismay limbs reach for the black bag in the backseat, hauling it into my lap. I slip my hand into the left pocket as told, pulling out the gray envelope. It was plan, no writing of any sort on it. It was heavy and lumpy... _what in the hell? _I dump whatever was in the envelope into my palm; a crumbled letter and a _key._ It was an ordinary key, and a little rusty around the edges.

"What's this go to?" I ask, turning the key around.

"I'm not sure. Read the note."

I did so, feeling like the car's pressing down upon me with each word. It read:

_She's the key. _

_The key to infinitely. _

_Find out where the key's home is. You'll find out what she unlocks.  
_

_"_Am I the 'she'?"' I ask. "And dude... what a cryptically message!"

"I'm afraid you're the 'she', and yeah tell me about it." My uncle sounded as annoyed as I felt.

The letter is _so _lame that I laugh slightly to myself. Better than getting edgy about not knowing what the letters meaning is. But what I _do_ know is these bad guys needed to look up a book called, 'bad guys for dummies,' because part of me was seriously amused. God, what a way to cheer me up.

"Whatever. What friend by the way are we're visiting?" I ask, tossing the letter and key back into the black bag.

"You'll see." he muttered.

I glare at him. "I thought you were going to tell me stuff now?"

"Max, just get some rest, and we'll be there soon enough," was all I got.

The heavy weight of my stare didn't work, so I grumble after a few minutes of pointless glaring and sift around, seeking out the most relaxed way to sleep in a smelly, moving car. Once I found it, I drifted off, pushing thought of the key and whatever mess I was in to the back of my head.

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**:) I hope you guys liked it even though it was kinda short...**

**Soon, the others will be in here also, so don't worry... and I hope you're not too confused. Recap is: **Max mom and dad were killed, therefore her uncle took her in and they're now on the run from the ones who wanted her parents dead because of something they'd been involved in which Max and Dylan have no clue about, so there seeking out answers... **That about sums it up**.**  
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**Leave a review and tell me what you think, okay?  
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**Thanks!  
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